


The Right Words

by prioriincantatum



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Deaf Castiel, M/M, Mild Language, Right?, cutesy ness, embarrassed and nervous dean, like a lot, the best kind
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-01
Updated: 2014-01-01
Packaged: 2018-01-07 00:12:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,826
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1113183
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/prioriincantatum/pseuds/prioriincantatum
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean Winchester screwed up. Not in a major way, not really. Running into a boy in the hall is hardly on the top of his "major screw ups" list, but when that boy happens to be deaf and absolutely beautiful in every single way, it suddenly is. And he's going to fix it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Right Words

“Winchester, if you’re done chatting up Miss Braeden…” Dean turned his head warily towards the teacher, his lips quirking up in a cautious smile as he looked away from Lisa who just shook her head a little at him and rolled her eyes. She was still smiling, so he assumed that she was still interested. That was enough to keep him smiling while he looked over their English teacher. “I’d like you to read this next page. Assuming you still have your book out.” Her eyes glanced down at his desk where 1984 sat, closed and unused. “Page 94, if you would.” Her eyes narrowed as he thumbed through the pages with a sigh.

He was about to read it, he really was, albeit with a snarky tone and special voices for each character that were sure to get a laugh out of the rest of the class, but the bell rang. He could hear his teachers’ sigh from across the room, even over all of his classmates scrambling to go home.

He was packing up as well when he heard the telltale tapping that meant his teacher was waiting for him to give him another lecture. He sighed as he slung his backpack over his shoulder and turned towards the front of the classroom.

“Winchester.” Dean was nearly out the door when she said his name. He kept in the doorway as he turned back towards her, biting lightly on his tongue.

“What’s up, Naomi?” He saw the frown line form between her brows and her lips tightly purse when he used her first name.

“It’s Ms. Walker, Dean. You know that.” Dean shrugged and didn’t bother to correct himself. “I need you to pay attention in my class. You can’t just coast through senior year, you still need to work.” He watched her as she stood from her desk and walked towards him, a small bundle of papers in her hand. “Just because you do fine on tests and papers doesn’t mean you can just do as you please in class.” She basically shoved the papers at Dean and he looked them over, recognizing the last test. A red blemish at the top indicated that he had gotten a near perfect score and he couldn’t help but look at the papers with a full-blown smirk.

“I expect you to participate in discussions rather than your social life while you’re in my class.” He noticed her cock an eyebrow and nod. Dean’s smirk dropped and he gave her a stiff nod in response.

“Of course.” She seemed pleased until he raised two fingers and smiled wryly. “Scouts honor.” He slipped away before she got the chance to talk his ear off.

Dean wandered down the halls, staring straight ahead so as to not get wound up in conversation with anyone. Naomi had delayed him enough, and he needed to be in the freshman wing as quickly as possible so as to avoid another lecture, this time from his little brother. It was easier to find him in the halls, and safer too. Despite the fact that Dean knew Sam could tend to himself, he didn’t want him to have to.

The halls were jam packed with familiar faces but Dean didn’t really care for most. Sure he had a few friends throughout his classes, and a few too many more-than-just-friends friends, but Sam was more important than every last one of them.

His thoughts were so preoccupied that when he rounded the corner to the freshman wing of their school, he bumped into someone. Hard. 

“Oh. Shit. Sorry!” Dean stammered as he stumbled back and there was a clatter of books and papers as they fell to the ground. He crouched over, shuffling them together to help pick them up. “Damn, I’m sorry. I wasn’t paying attention, my bad.”

 

Dean’s voice dropped as he tilted his head up to look at the boy he’d run into. 

Bright blue eyes met his own. They were curious and confused, though Dean wasn’t entirely sure why. Just like he wasn’t sure why he felt his chest tighten considerably as he looked over the stranger. He zoned back in on reality when the stranger’s hand brushed over his so he could grab his books and papers from Dean. He swallowed thickly and pulled them back with him as he stood up.

The boy followed him up and looked at Dean expectantly. Extending a hand out flatly, he wagged his fingers back to him, obviously wanting his things back, but Dean was hesitant to give them. “Look, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to bump into you like that, I was just in a hurry and –“ His words got caught up in his throat and he smiled nervously. 

The stranger raised an eyebrow, confused and he gestured for his books again and Dean muttered a quick “oh” and handed them back. “Sorry, I just-” Dean swallowed thickly. “I’m Dean.” Normally he was better than this, normally he could have just handed the books right away and introduced himself and put on that killer, Dean Winchester smile. Instead, his mouth was pulling up at the edges into a smile, sure, but it felt goofy.

The stranger was altogether too quiet though and it was completely unnerving him. Just as he was about to speak again, the stranger waved him off, a bit of agitation evident to Dean in his expression. He started moving his free hand in a way that confused Dean however, realization slowly sunk in.

Suddenly, Dean felt his neck heat up and then his ears. The lump rose in his throat again and he sputtered out another response, this time considerably louder. “Oh God, I’m so sorry, I didn’t –“ the stranger had recoiled a bit and Dean felt the heat spreading from his ears and up to his cheeks. He hadn’t _meant_ to speak louder, not really, and now he felt like a complete jackass for doing it, not that this stranger with impossibly, perfectly blue eyes could have noticed that, because he couldn’t hear it.

Dean’s stomach knotted painfully and he looked anywhere but at him. “Sorry.”

He stormed passed the beautiful stranger and down the hall until he found his little brother.

“Hey, Dean... who shoved a stick up your ass?” Sam’s smile dropped almost immediately upon looking at Dean.

“Shush, bitch.” Dean grumbled back in return, yanking Sam by his backpack down the hall. He was walking with a purpose, just so he didn’t look back. That was _beyond_ embarrassing, and although he didn’t care much for what others thought of him, he did care what this stranger thought. He’d made an ass of himself, and the guy didn’t even hear him. What was worse was that that alone should have been more reason for Dean to not care, yet it somehow just made him care more.

By the time he got to his car, he’d completely tuned out Sam’s small protests, and he’d steeled himself to either not care at all, or he was going to be a dumbass and care altogether too much.

“Did Lisa turn you down again? You know she’s never going to say yes with your reputation.” He looked over at his brother with a dubious look.

“What makes you say that?” Sam just laughed and shrugged back at him.

“You’ve got that dejected look again, and usually it’s because someone turned you down.”

“Well that’s not the case this time.” Dean grumbled as he put his baby into gear. “Just because you’re in those app classes, doesn’t mean you’re all-knowing, little bro.” A smirk slowly grew as he heard Sam groan. 

“It’s _A-P_ , Dean.” 

By the time they’d gotten fast food and drove around just talking and laughing, it was getting late. Late enough that when they got to their apartment, Dean was able to convince Sam to go to his room and try to sleep, or at least just do his homework. Their Dad was always out late drinking and he didn’t like for Sammy to see that.

“Get to bed early, Sammy. I need to be at school early.” Dean said from the living room, thumbing through the television channels. Sam quirked his head out of his doorway and stared at Dean for a while. “What?”

“You need to be at school… _early_?” He repeated slowly. “What for?”

“Library.” Sam took a few steps closer to him at his response. He had changed into a loose t-shirt and pajama pants since they got home. Dean smirked a little at how the pants weren’t even covering his ankles anymore. The little twerp was growing like a weed. It didn’t detract from the fact that his little brother was still in fact, a twerp. One that was staring at him with a brow that rose up into his shaggy hair.

“You’re going to the library?” Dean rolled his eyes.

“Yeah. I need to get a few books. I don’t really know where to look for them, so I want to go before classes start.” Sam leaned against the doorframe, eyeing his brother suspiciously.

Dean had taken to sitting in front of the couch rather than on it, his legs outstretched in front of him lazily, knocking the coffee table out of it’s usual spot to where it now was, askew and by the wall nearest Sam. He had to shove it away to get into the living room and it bumped Dean’s legs in the process, causing him to grumble and curse under his breath. 

Sam planted himself on the center of the couch, his right leg brushing up against Dean’s left shoulder as he did so. “What kind of books?” Dean rolled his eyes before he began to thumb through the channels as a distraction.

“Language books.”

“What kind of language books?”

“What is this, twenty questions? Go to bed, twerp.” Dean scoffed. There was no way he was going to go all chick flick with his baby brother about him learning some sign language so he could apologize to some gorgeous guy he literally ran into in the hallway. _That_ would go over well. Dean had long since considered himself an equal opportunist and Sam knew that, but Dean didn’t like talking about romantic gestures with anyone. Although he had no clue what he was going to say to … _whatever_ his name was, it was further than he’d ever gone to get Lisa Braeden’s attention, and that was saying something since he’d been working on her for years now. But this … this was different. This guy, this blue-eyed _dream_ was undoubtedly the single most attractive person Dean had ever laid eyes on, and there was other kinds of laid he’d really like to act upon with him.

“Are you trying to learn French again? You don’t really have an affinity for languages, Dean. They come across as cheesy and creepy rather than romantic when you use them. Or just offensive.” Dean gritted his teeth to keep from snapping at Sam. He felt a vein begin to pop in his forehead as he flexed and released his fist to focus on keeping his face as straight as possible.

“No, Sammy. I’m not learning French.”

“Then what is it?” his jaw tensed as he felt warmth spreading up the back of his neck. He was going to have to give Sam some sort of an explanation, and it wasn’t going to bode well for Dean.

“Sign language.” Dean uttered as quietly as possible and coughed a little into his hand.

“What?” He felt Sam hover over his shoulder and saw his floppy brown hair before he saw the confused expression on his little brother’s face.

“Sign language.” Dean murmured, only slightly louder than before.

“...Really, Dean. You’ve gotta speak up.” He heard a twinge of amusement in Sam’s voice. He wasn’t hearing what Dean said, but he was obviously seeing the red heat that had now reached his ears.

“Sign language, alright?” Dean snapped and grumbled as he focused again on rapidly changing the channel.

“Sign language?” Sam’s smug grin fell and he looked genuinely perplexed in Dean’s peripheral. “Why do you want to learn sign language?” Usually most of Dean’s desires for learning had obvious reasons, like fixing the Impala, or picking up the new girl from Milwaukee. To Sam, this wasn’t an obvious reason and Dean knew that much, so he expected the follow question.

“When I went to go get you I ran into someone.” Dean’s jaw tensed again as he tried to will the heat to stop spreading. It had yet to heat up his face, and he’d prefer to keep it that way rather than look like some embarrassed pre-pubescent girl talking about her first boyfriend. For crying out loud, he doesn’t even know the guys name and he’s this embarrassed. Sam’s already about to give him a huge heaping pile of shit. “And I just…” How was he supposed to explain without sounding especially sincere or like this was no different than anything else? It was different, but he had no clue how different. He’d only had half a conversation with the guy – at this point he just wanted to apologize, show he meant it, and know his name.

And he’d swear to his sweet baby that this wasn’t going to be like some stupid chick flick.

“Well I literally ran into him.” Fuck it. Tensing his jaw was starting to seriously hurt, and he’d already said the worst part – it was a guy he was acting all mushy over. Dean Winchester was not mushy, especially not over guys. But this guy … this was different. “And damn, Sam. He’s gorgeous. And I tried to apologize and talk to him and I made an ass out of myself because I didn’t realize he was deaf – and when I did, I just _spoke louder_ , like a complete ass.” Admittedly, he felt like absolute shit over that. He tended to get guilty over the stupidest things, and this was no exception.

“Well, Dean… He couldn’t really _hear_ you, so it’s not all that bad, right?” Sam’s comforting tone didn’t do much to alleviate the uncomfortable feelings swelling within Dean.

“So what are you going to learn to say?” Those words were one of the many reasons Dean loved his little brother. He’d never really freaked when Dean talked about a guy. He just treated it like anything else. He’d tell Dean he was being an ass if he was, or just make a disgusted face when Dean talked about getting in someone’s pants (which he did if it was a guy or a girl). He didn’t sit there and judge him. At least he didn’t judge the guy part. Occasionally he judged the getting in their pants part, but that was another story entirely.

“I have no idea.” Dean rubbed at his eyes, mostly because he didn’t know where to look anymore. “Guess I want to tell him my name and ask his. And apologize for being an asshole.” The blush threatened to flare up again when he thought back to his thoughts upon running into the stranger about just how _beautiful_ he was. Now those thoughts were just constantly stuck in his the back of his mind. He was good at saying what he thought, but it was hard now when he needed to know another language to even tell the stranger his name.

“Good place to start in the morning then.” Sam yawned before he could respond. His eyelids drooped a little and he gave Dean a pat on the shoulder, which Dean returned with a lightly forceful shove on Sam’s shoulder, just enough to cause him to tip to one side of the couch. “I’ll help. I know where the ASL books are in the library.”

“How do you know that? And what’s ASL?” Dean leaned back by one arm on the couch so he could look directly at Sam.

“The Dewey Decimal System, and I did a project on sign language a few years ago. ASL stands for American Sign Language.” With that, Sam got up from the couch and sleepily wandered off to his room, muttering a goodnight to Dean somewhere along the way.

Sam leaving gave Dean a few more hours at least to think to himself. What _was_ he going to say? After a little digging through Sam’s school bag, he found a few loose sheets of paper and a working pen, which he put down on the coffee table and started to scribble down a sort of script of things that he needed to learn to sign. NCIS was quickly ignored and instead the sounds of a scratching pen on paper were heard in the room, along with the occasional groan from Dean as he wrote something stupid and had to scratch it out. 

x

When morning came around, Dean was ready to go before Sam even got out of bed. He was sitting on a stool at the kitchen counter, staring down blankly at a piece of paper, looking far worse for wear than Sam remembered seeing him the night before.

“Morning, Dean. You alright?” Sam walked towards him, eyes immediately going for the paper, but Dean folded it up and shoved it in his pocket before Sam could even make out a word through all the wrinkles and scribbles across the page. “What’s that?”

“Words.” Dean’s tone came out completely serious and he reached for his half-eaten bowl of cereal without any added explanation.

“Well no shit, Sherlock. Words for what?” He took the stool next to Dean and eyed him warily.

“Language, baby bro.” Sam scoffed at the comment, mainly because Dean spoke like a sailor and he was criticizing Sam’s word choice. He knew when he could curse and when he couldn’t, unlike Dean. “Just some I need to learn in sign language.”

“Oh. Like what you want to say to the guy? Can I see?” Dean felt that familiar heat rise up his neck again and he brushed it off with a faint laugh. 

“Sorry Sammy, its classified information for my eyes only. Now get ready to go.”

When they arrived at the library, Dean struggled to keep up with Sam. He was only a freshman and knew the place like Dean knew the ins and outs of the Impala, whereas Dean only knew that the cranky librarian always gave him the stink eye because he flirted with her cute library aides just a little too loudly.

“Dean?” His shoulders automatically tensed at the voice. He’d already roped Sam into this thing (whatever it was), and the last thing he wanted was someone else knowing about it. “Why the hell are you in the library?” He turned towards the voice and ended up face-to-face (albeit his face was angled down to compensate for the height difference) with the one and only Jo Harvelle. He’d made the mistake of flirting with the pretty little blonde while her mother was around and despite the fact that he was pretty sure she was crushing hard on him, she was about the only girl he had a complete and utterly platonic relationship with.

“Getting books. What else?” She scoffed but cut it off quickly when she noticed his expression. 

“Oh. You’re serious.” Sam walked back down the aisle, carrying a pretty hefty stack in his arms that he tried to dump in Dean’s arms. “Sign language?” Jo grabbed a few books and Dean possessively snapped them back from her. That annoying blush was creeping up the back of his neck again and he just wanted her to go away because _fuck,_ he didn’t need _another_ one of her speeches about his sexual endeavors, especially when he wasn’t really gunning for that this time around. At least not right away (but hey, sex was always an endgame for Dean Winchester). 

“Don’t you have something better to do, Jo?” Her eyebrows shot up in surprise and she yanked the books from him. “Hey!” He hissed at her trying to grab them back, but she was walking away after Sammy, who had walked off to find a table when Dean wasn’t paying attention.

The two were seated with books stacked on the table before Dean even got there. “Doin’ a school project, Sam?” Jo asked, ignoring Dean and purposefully spreading out so he wouldn’t sit next to her. He took the seat next to Sam, though a bit grumpy because he was gradually realizing he snapped at her when he really shouldn’t have, but he wasn’t really up for apologizing.

“Nah, Dean wants to learn how to apologize to a deaf kid he was a jerk to.” That was it. He was grateful Sam didn’t say something like, “Dean wants to learn how to ask a guy out”, because for one thing, he wasn’t actually asking the stranger out, and because him being a jerk would sound reasonable to Jo and she wouldn’t question it further. Though, she did have an odd look on her face. He wasn’t sure if it stemmed from the fact that he was going to such a length to apologize or if it was because of the burning in his face.

“Is she hot?” Dean sputtered slightly at her question and ignored her by grabbing the book nearest him and flipping through the index to see if there was anything useful.

“He never actually described the guy besides calling him “gorgeous”, so I guess.” Dean broke out into a full on coughing fit when he heard Sam speak. A loud “ssh” came from the front desk and he ignored it. Like he gave a shit about the librarian – right now he had Sam plainly looking through a dozen books and Jo staring him down with that mischievous sort of smirk that said she was about to make a snarky remark that was going to seriously piss him off.

But then, she didn’t.

“So Dean-o, what are we looking up?” He felt a huge surge of appreciation for the younger blonde in that moment; though that didn’t mean he was about tell her everything.

“ _You_ ain’t lookin’ up anything.” He grumbled. “I need to do this myself.” He was staring intently at the book in front of him as he tried to decide if it was helpful enough on showing the alphabet or not when Sam and Jo went quiet. He didn’t have to look to know that they were probably mouthing to each other about him. But Dean couldn’t give a rats ass about that, since there was _no way_ he was telling them what he wanted to say to the stranger. He fought the now too-familiar heat rolling up his neck as the silence passed.

Dean heaved a heavy sigh and looked up, catching Jo mouthing something before they both stopped abruptly. “You can help me find good books though. I need to know the right way to form sentences, unless it’s the same, basic alphabet, and they’ve gotta tell me exactly how to do it.” The two looked surprised, and that only caused the blush to creep up even further, and the fact that this stupid blushing thing was even happening and happening so often was just annoying as _fuck_. Then there were two of the people he was closest to, sitting in front of him, staring at him like he was some sort of alien.

“Are you two eggheads gonna help or what?” Dean’s voice came out gravely and almost growling as he slapped his hand over another book and dragged it towards him.

“Yeah, of course.” Jo’s voice was soft and seemingly apologetic, but Dean wasn’t paying enough attention to figure out if it really was. “Hopefully your period will be over before you go talk to the guy.”

x

Dean left the library with a small stack of books, one solely dedicated to the sign language alphabet, another dedicated to the basics of sign language, and a third as a sort of English to ASL translator, albeit it was rather limited. Though, with what he wanted to say, it would be more than enough.

He was thumbing through the alphabet book, signing with his free hand under his desk through English and Math, only stopping between classes in order to change rooms then he went right back to it. He supposed the only reason he got away with not paying attention was that… well, he never paid attention. So him paying attention to a book (even if it wasn’t The Great Gatsby or his Statistics book) was better than what they normally got from him. 

By the time lunch rolled around, he had a pretty solid grip on the alphabet and he was feeling more than just pleased with himself. That is, until he got to his locker. He was going to it to get his keys so he and Sammy could grab lunch, but instead he stood frozen, fifty feet away. Only a few lockers down from his was the guy from yesterday. He stood in front of the lockers, facing Dean, but looking at some red-haired female opening the locker only a few from him. 

_Shit._

He’s not ready to talk to him yet. Sure, he could sign every word out letter by letter, but he doesn’t half ass it when it comes to this sort of thing. He’s stuck debating whether or not he wants to go to his locker and just ignore him or hope he doesn’t notice Dean, or – a sudden frenzy of _ohshitno_ feelings overwhelm him and Dean’s face drops as the stranger lifts his head and looks directly at Dean, so directly that Dean would have sworn that he _knew_ Dean was there.

Dean noticed the strangers’ lips part slightly and - _no_ , he wasn’t going to stand there while he lifted his hand. Dean couldn’t tell if he was lifting his hand to sign something or motion to Dean in a way or get the attention of the redheaded female, still mindlessly digging through her locker. Instead of waiting to see what the stranger would do with that one hand, Dean turned abruptly on his heel and made a beeline for the parking lot. He’d rather deface his baby and hotwire her than have a run in with Blue Eyes before he’s ready.

Maybe that wasn’t a good idea, because it left him with relentless teasing from Jo and Sam and even fuckin’ _Benny_ , who Jo ran into in the hallway and went and blabbed to him too. Even on the drive home from school he could hear Benny’s teasing tone running through his head.

_“Nothing to be ashamed of, brother. Unless of course you screw it up a second time.”_

“Fuck!” Dean slammed on the breaks so hard he felt to rotors grind against the breaks. He’d missed a stop sign and a little Prius was zooming by him, the driver making obscene hand gestures, to which Dean merely waved off.

“Dean, what the hell?” Sam shouted, more concerned than angry, after Dean steadied the wheel and puttered back down the road again.

“I missed a stop sign, I didn’t drive off a cliff. Untwist your panties, Sammy.” Dean grumbled and the remainder of the ride was silent much to Dean’s dismay. Scenarios overlapped with the snarky remarks of friends and Sam caused a pit of worry to settle in his gut.

Holy pie, was he becoming a girl? How was it possible that he was getting so worked up over some guy he doesn’t even know? Hell, he only sort of accidentally talked to him, and the guy sure as hell didn’t talk back. Dean didn’t even get his name, or ask anyone else for his name. But no – he wouldn’t do that. For whatever dumb reason, by whatever asshole demon possessing him, he wants to do this himself. He was the dumbass that fucked up and he wants to fix it, plain and simple.

That night back in their apartment, there was a strange sense of normalcy as Sam worked on his homework and Dean looked idly through the sign language books. It was a fairly normal situation, despite the fact that Dean was actually studying something (albeit not for school). From his position on the floor in front of the couch, Sam tilted his head back from his Chemistry book and stared at Dean for a few moments in silence. Although Dean noticed immediately, he said nothing. Obviously, Sammy had something to say.

Or maybe not.

It only took a minute for the staring to breach past awkward for Dean, and he just had to say something. “Spit it out or stop staring at me, Sam.” He huffed as he closed the book on his lap. It was hard enough to focus on a book without Sam sitting there creeping him out.

But Sam wasn’t going to give in that easily, of course. He looked away for a moment as if deciding to himself what he wanted to say. Dean sighed and closed his book, waiting for the oncoming storm of touchy-feely yoga crap that was sure to pour out of his little brothers mouth.

“What are you going to say to him?”

Dean blinked a little absently at his little brother, wondering where the hell that came from. And then what he _was_ going to say when he finally gathered up the balls to talk to the guy.

“Dunno yet.”

“Well, I would suggest you start with something along the lines of, “Hi, I’m Dean, sorry for being a dick to you, now can I put my dick –“” Sam’s snarky remark was cut off by Dean abruptly shoving at his head, forcing Sam to roll onto the ground with a pleased grin. “What? I mean, that’s not really below your usual pick up lines.” He closed his books decisively and looked up at Dean, who really didn’t know how to respond.

“This is different.”

But how? Sam was looking at him, his eyes asking the same question that he was struggling to answer. The fact that the guy was deaf was obviously something new and different for him, but that wasn’t _really_ what was different. It was those eyes, staring at him from down the hallway. Soft hands Dean had only briefly skimmed just yesterday. He sighed and brought his hands to his forehead at that reminder.

When did he suddenly grow lady parts and start pining after some stranger? For the love of pie, he was freaking out over this guy whose name he didn’t even know. It was different from anyone he’d every run into before (no matter how literal or not) and it was everything. The eyes, the hands, the way his lips quirked in subtle expression shifts, and the adorable head tilt he’d had when Dean started speaking, utterly ignorant of the fact that he couldn’t hear a word of it.

“He’s different.” Dean said definitively. That was just it. Dean couldn’t really explain it any more than that, but it seemed to be enough for Sammy.

“Okay, but you still need to figure out what to say.” Bless his little brother for understanding that Dean was sincere, then not laying it on thick like most of his friends would. Although they were still in the touchy-feely realm of conversation, he could handle this. He needed to plan it out anyways.

“Yeah…” Dean trailed off, tapping his pencil absently on his notebook. Words were scribbled across the page, all under strikes and scratches indicating that he hadn’t quite yet found the words to say.

“You should probably start with “Hi”.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Dean’s words suggested venom, however he was beaming a toothy grin at his brilliant little brother, who smiled back up at him. That had been about all he’d decided to learn to say, beside “my name is Dean Winchester”. Anything he came up with after that just didn’t seem quite right. And he didn’t have time to sit around and learn the entire language for this guy who probably wouldn’t even care to get to know him. More than anything else, Dean had the courage to approach him now, and he didn’t want to lose it while trying to find the right words.

“Then you can quote Shakespeare, or a classic love song, I know how much you love those…” Sam chuckled and ducked out of the way from Dean’s just-past playful swat.

“Alright, alright, you’re officially no help.”

“Well, what did you say to him when you ran into him?”

Dean paused and stared at the television, not really paying attention to the news running across the screen. “I was trying to apologize for running into him.” He remembered the situation with embarrassing clarity. Now he had a chance for a bit more eloquence and he’d be damned if he didn’t get the words right this time. No slurs of swears mixed in apologizes and stammers. He had entirely avoided looking up swears in sign language solely so he had no chance of signing it, and that in and of itself indicated his seriousness in all of this. Two years of Spanish and a semester of French and he couldn’t say hello, but he could ask a foreign exchange student if she wanted to make out in the back of his car and the expletives that followed.

“Well, maybe start with that then.” Dean nodded solemnly, staring down at his notebook. “After the hi and introducing yourself, of course.” He made no motion to respond to his little brother, instead deciding to just write what he wanted to say to him.

A few minutes passed, the lull in the brothers conversation replaced by a muffled news reporter on the quieted television set and the scratching of pen on paper, with only the occasional pause and scribble as Dean found exactly the right words to say.

“There.” He said definitively, underlining a few short sentences. They seemed concise enough that the stranger would get what Dean meant without being too specific that Dean had to learn more words and had the chance of making more errors.

“Can I see?” Sam automatically reached for the notebook in front of him, but Dean slammed a hand down onto it.

“No way in hell, Sammy!” The words on the page echoed in his head and a heat crept up his neck at the thought of his brother looking over the words. But it was hard to keep that resolve when Sam looked up at him, dejected and on the verge of a puppy dog pout.

Damn it.

“Fine, but if you say a _single fucking word_ about it and start in on your touchy-feely yoga crap, I will gut you.” Dean accentuated each syllable with a finger pointed at his younger brother, who merely reached for the spiral with more glee on his face than Dean had seen in months.

There was a long moment of silence as Sam looked over the words. He was driving Dean insane, his stomach twisting in a bundle of nerves because he was taking so damn long to say something, anything. Yeah, sure, he’d threatened him against talking, but he knew Sam would ignore that anyways. The anxiety was borderline unbearable when Sam tapped on the page and tilted his head back to Dean.

“I think this is better.” Sam had scratched out a word and replaced it with a far more eloquent synonym. Dean shrugged slightly and took the spiral.

“What the hell. It’s true and I already screwed up my first impression.” He chuckled lightly to himself and Sam joined in before the quiet surrounded them again.

With their dad out at who-knows-where, working or drinking (or perhaps both simultaneously), they relied on one another a lot. More importantly, Sammy relied on Dean. And Dean was responsible for being the father figure for his little brother. That meant that more often than not, his needs and wants got swept under the rug and Sam’s needs and wants were put first. It never bothered Dean, not really, but it meant the world to him that Sam would so willingly return the favor, without judgment. Hell, the kid was more than eager to help Dean out. As was evident by the way he reached for the stack of sign language books Dean had and how he started thumbing through them, declaring himself Dean’s practice dummy without a single word.

Dean reached forward to ruffle up Sam’s hair, despite ample protests.

x

Dean was almost too nervous to drive to school that Friday morning. He’d been ready and felt prepared to sign a few short sentences the day before, but had chickened out last minute. He’d gone to get Sammy just like the first time he’d run into Mr. Blue Eyes, intending to find him and introduce himself properly, but he was signing with some smarmy looking blonde guy who was talking and signing back rapidly. Dean looked down to his own hands a bit dejected, knowing it was impossible for him to sign even half that speed, and there was no way he could read anything that quickly. Maybe this was a bad idea after all?

With a quick shake of his head, Dean found his motivation again. Dammit all, he’d gone to the _library_ for him; he was certainly going to say what he needed to say. At this point, he had nothing to lose and everything to gain, because if Blue Eyes brushed him off, there were half a dozen other at least people wandering the hall that would be all over him if he let them. But who was he kidding? He was a bit more sensitive than that. Not that he’d be crushed if he was blown off by this guy (well, in the metaphorical sense), but he wasn’t going to bounce back as easily as he normally could.

He was lightning. The brief touch they shared has sparked Dean’s very core and he simply couldn’t shake the feeling of it all. This wasn’t love at first sight or fate or any of that nonsense, but it was more than lust at first sight, and as a teenage boy that had to mean something. This effort had to mean something.

So when the blonde guy meandered away from Blue Eyes, Dean gathered up the courage to take his place. By the fact that Dean had been a bit too eager in his steps and that the stranger didn’t know he was heading towards him, they’d ended up in each other’s personal space.

Dean was hardly prepared for the closeness and a mysterious heat rose first up his neck then to his ears before he coughed a bit and backed away a step. The boy across from him tilted his head and squinted at him, as if confused or trying to remember something. When he’d sorted that out, his head straightened out and his eyes opened slightly and he just waited. Whether it was for Dean to move or say something, Dean wasn’t entirely sure, but the stare down was a bit more than he’d asked for.

With shaky hands, Dean nervously signed to him.

_Hi._

His hands clenched onto themselves for support and reassurance. They were visibly shaking and since the stranger was now staring blankly at Dean’s hands, he wanted nothing more than to seem confident in his actions.

After an unbearably long moment, the strangers’ lips twisted up in a small smile and his eyes met Dean’s. Damn, _those eyes._ They were sure to be the death of him, so Dean forcibly looked away, just in time to catch him sign back.

 _Hello_.

With a bit more confidence from that little smile, Dean continues.

_I’m Dean._

After his hands stop moving, his eyes focused directly on the other boys’ hands so as not to miss a single movement. He’d learned how to sign “Can you repeat that?” just in case Blue Eyes signed a bit too fast for him, but that seemed unnecessary as he began to slowly sign out his own name, letter by letter.

“Castiel?” Dean hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but the combination of letters demanded they be strung together in a word and spoken aloud. Now, he had no way of putting a name to the beautiful face in front of his, but had he, Castiel certainly wasn’t at the top of his list. Castiel smiled a little more and nodded back. Dean supposed he’d read his lips and at that, Dean got flustered again.

_Hi, Cas._

Castiel chuckled faintly at the shaky sign language before responding.

_Hello, Dean._

Dean beamed at Cas, and Cas smiled back. Though he’d wanted to spell out his name in full, he didn’t want to show Cas how nervous he really was, but the nickname suited him and caused Cas to show a few teeth in his smile so it was worth it.

With a heavy sigh, Dean pushed forwards.

_I’m sorry for running into you._

As soon as his hands stopped moving and he saw a confused look cross Cas’ face, he realized that he might’ve forgotten it and his heart sunk. Maybe he hadn’t left any impression on Cas? Well this would all be embarrassing if that was the case.

But that small smile returned to Cas’ face and he shrugged at Dean before moving his hands back in response.

He was obviously slowing down for Dean, but he still wasn’t sure he was reading it right. With his shrug, Cas moved his right hand on top of the left, his right closed in what was very much a “rock and roll” hand sign to him, landing on his flat left hand. He was pretty sure that Cas was saying something like, “That?” Then his quick shaking of hands and smile was what he needed to know that he had dismissed it. Thank all that was holy in his life that Dean knew body language.

Cas then took his enclosed right hand, save for his pinky, to tap onto his angled and open left hand before throwing his now open right hand over his shoulder, and then take his two hands together in front of him before finally spreading them out and away. Dean recognized the first word as “it”, however didn’t know the other two. At least his smile told Dean everything would be all right. Despite not being completely sure of that, he soldiered on.

_I have a confession, Cas._

Dean could only give a half-hearted smile to Cas in return for the blue-eyed boys confusion. His hands swept forward, clean and slow, miming out each word, words that Dean gratefully recognized.

With his left hand open and pointing to Dean, Cas took his right hand and mimicked a circle around it.

_What –_

Then his right pinky touched his lips and pulled away.

_Is –_

And with that pinky, he tapped his once again opened left palm.

_It –_

And lastly, four distinct letters and a shrug.

_Dean?_

Dean’s nerves simmered down a bit upon realizing he could understand what Cas was saying to him, and that adorable head tilt and squinty eyed look just made his stomach let loose a cage of butterflies just for kicks. But he could do this.

With a heavy sigh, Dean raised his hands again and signed each word with a decisive forcefulness.

_You are the most beautiful person I have ever seen._

By now, the blush had found its way to Dean’s cheeks and his palms were sweaty and clammy all at once. Cas’ eyes opened in a wide-eyed stare at Dean. Despite the fact that it was utterly embarrassing and causing the moment to creep into chick flick mode, Dean just stared back. He was rewarded with getting to watch a blush crawl over Castiel’s face until he was pink all over. Dean just stood there, only half smiling because he was too nervous to know what Cas had to say to that.

Turns out, he didn’t have anything to say to that.

Cas’ blank face quickly changed into a smirk before it was suddenly right up against Dean’s and their lips connected in a wet slide. It was by no means a chaste kiss, but it still had a sweetness too it, even when Castiel’s tongue dipped into Dean’s mouth, practically licking into it despite the fact that they were in a very crowded school hallway. But fuck it, Dean didn’t even care. After all, he was the one locking lips with the hottie in front of him.

When Cas pulled away, he grabbed lightly onto Dean’s wrist with one hand, rubbing at it with his thumb before he started to sign with his free hand. He brought his right hand to his chin then pulled it out to Dean.

 _Thanks_.

Dean smiled at that, before things got complicated again. Cas pointed to Dean then crossed his index and middle fingers, before putting his thumb under his chin and flicking it out. _You’re not --_ Then his fingers showed a one, then a two below it. Dean guessed that was a fraction, one over two. _Half_ – Then came a sign he couldn’t recognize. Fingers to his lips, then placing his hand to the side, like he was setting the kiss down and Dean had no clue what it meant. But the last sign, a thumbs up thrust towards him twice, the thumb bending at him, gave him hope that this was at least a good sign.

“I hope you can read lips so you know that I only got half of that, man.” Cas just smiled and nodded before placing a quick, open-mouthed kiss on Dean’s cheek that got him all flushed again.

Cas signed again, slower this time, but Dean still only got half of it.

He pointed to himself.

_I –_

Then he raised his fist up to his mouth and pulled it away, open-mouthed as he did so. That momentarily distracted Dean – simply because he wanted that open mouth against his again, and he didn’t know what that sign meant. But he knew the next one – a flat hand thrust, open-palmed, towards him.

 _Your_ –

For the last sign, Cas needed both hands. He brought them up to his cheeks and let his fingers go all jazz-hand down them. Dean’s nose crinkled in confusion.

“Wait – freckles?” Cas nodded. “What about my freckles?”

With a small smirk, Cas leaned forward to peck a couple quick kisses on his cheeks.

“Oh.” Dean huffed out, a little dumbfounded. “You like them.” Cas nodded again, and took Dean’s hand in his own. “Sorry, I’m new to this whole signing thing.” Cas was staring at Dean’s lips and smiling faintly. He gave Dean’s hand a squeeze and spelled out each word, letter by letter, for Dean, and Dean beamed back at him.

“You’ll teach me.”

**Author's Note:**

> I think it’s cute that Dean doesn’t know what Cas said, not really, but if you want to know what he said… Here’s everything he said to Dean: I’m Castiel. Hello, Dean. That? It was nothing. What is it, Dean? Thanks. You’re not half-bad yourself. I like your freckles. I’ll teach you.
> 
> Thanks for reading! If anyone sees fault in my sign language, i.e., I used the wrong meaning of a word or something, please let me know. All I personally know of sign language is thank you, and the alphabet, haha. Also, bless [Airen](http://huggybearstiel.tumblr.com) for this lovely prompt. Hopefully it was worth the wait!
> 
> Edit: 8/24/2014  
> Wow! Sudden surge in popularity. I am aware of the mistakes between ASL and ESS, and I will edit those when I am ready to publish the rest of the story. I don't intend on posting any of the story until I have several chapters done, in case I get busy. Sorry for the wait, but once I begin posting, I'll keep posting. :)
> 
> Edit: 9/9/2015  
> I know I said a little over a year ago that I would be continuing this story, but my life is in a very different place than it was a year ago and I doubt I will ever return to fanfiction. Between school and, oddly enough, falling in love, my life set out on a different course. Destiel and the fanfic community will always hold a special place in my heart and I hope that one day if I choose to return to writing fanfic, I'll edit and continue this one. Thank you all for your continued encouragement and support and kudos. I get a special kind of happy when I see new kudos on this baby of mine.


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